


Prague is Lovely This Time of Year

by voxangelus



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-01
Updated: 2012-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-31 23:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxangelus/pseuds/voxangelus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Come home soon. He needs you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prague is Lovely This Time of Year

**Author's Note:**

> The plot bunny for this fic was influenced by an Omegle conversation with a random stranger, which can be read here: http://foxyvoxy.tumblr.com/post/18305833915/another-awesome-insta-rp Random stranger, if you recognize your Molly and John texts, please let me know so I can credit you! 
> 
> This fic was alpha-read by the delightful drinkingcocoa and beta-read by swissmarg, whose knowledge of the European rail system was invaluable.

The grotty village forty kilometres outside of Budapest should have been the end of it. You were almost positive it was. Moran ought to have been the last of them you had to track down. You're tired, but you don't dare stop to sleep yet. Parking the ancient automobile you have acquired from Moran's hideout, you stroll up to the ticket window at the train station in central Budapest and pay cash for first-class accommodations on the next train to Prague. The seven or so hours of peace and quiet will be restful, even if you aren't able to sleep. Prague will be the end of this almost three-year journey. Fingers nimble as ever, you fish your mobile from your coat pocket while you wait on a bench at the station and send the same text to two people.

_Going to Prague. Hear it's lovely this time of year._

Not expecting a reply from either, you stow the mobile back in your pocket. 

The train arrives soon, And your accommodations are comfortable and quiet. Unable to resist the temptation, you allow yourself to doze for a little while. The rocking motion of the train must have put you to sleep, for when your mobile buzzes, it jolts you awake.

_It's time you came back. He needs you. - Molly_

There's no need for you to ask who 'he' is. You know. ‘He’ is the main reason you've spent the last three years as a nomad, tracking down Moriarty's vast web of associates. You know he was hurt, but it's been just as difficult for you. You'd got used to having someone around - no, not just ‘someone’, him - to remind you to eat, and keep you from blowing yourself up with your experiments. Someone who was your friend; such a novelty, as you'd never had friends before. But John, with his giving spirit, wouldn't let you stay distant. This has all been for him: the fall, the hunt, the sacrifices. 

_I can't yet. One more to track down. Soon, I promise. - s_

You gaze out the window, watching distant lights flicker and shadows dance as the train speeds through the countryside, carrying you onward to the final piece of the puzzle, the last bit to solve before the game is over.

_You promise? Are you sure? - Molly_

You consider. Yes, this time you are sure. This is just clean-up. The hydra is headless now and all that remains is the squirming tail. 

_On my way to Prague now. Will put an end to this today. - s_

_Do you mean it? You promise? Today? - Molly_

You stare at the screen and are suspicious. Either John is in a bad way and Molly is worried about his sanity, or John has somehow acquired Molly's mobile. Molly might ask the same question over and over, but why would she suddenly be so eager for you to return now?You think carefully before composing your next text. 

_I promise, Molly. It's killing me to be away from him. - s_

It's true. It is killing you. You never knew how much you needed another human being until John made his way into your life. You hold your breath, waiting for the response, willing the mobile to buzz. 

_I want to be angry. But I just can't. - jw_

You fumble with your fingers, almost dropping the mobile to the floor in your haste to reply. He cannot put himself in danger now. Is he at Bart's? Baker Street? 

_John, call Mycroft or Anthea and get a car to the flat if you're not there already. Stay there until I come for you. Promise me. - sh_

Not enough, you think, not enough. Quickly, you send another message. 

_This has all been for your safety. Yours, Mrs Hudson's, Lestrade's. I must finish this and to do so I must know you are safe. -sh_

_And what about your safety? Going assassin-hunting all over the world? -jw_

'So predictable, John', you think, smiling to yourself as you type. The train slows as it enters Prague's city limits. The station is not far off. 

_I'm already dead. It affords me a certain... invisibility. Train's pulling into the station. - sh_

_If you get yourself killed now, I'll kill you. - jw_

You can't help it; a laugh bubbles up out of your chest. It really is all almost over, and soon you can go home, and John will be there. He'll make tea and fuss over how thin you are and be predictable and solid in his John-ness. You miss predictable although you never thought predictability was worthwhile. 

_Highly unlikely. You may kill me at your leisure in approximately twenty-four hours, from my calculations. Shall I pick up milk? - sh_

_You brilliant bastard. After this, I should think you'd better. - jw_

You knot your scarf around your neck to ward off what will certainly be a chilly winter day in Prague before sending a final text. 

_The game is on! Have the kettle ready. - sh_


End file.
